When There's Nothing To Lose
by whoome
Summary: Written after the episode 2x08. Damon told Elena he loved her and then compelled her to forget it. But did she?  One time thing, written mostly to vent my anger at the fact that Damon and Elena are STILL not together.


**"I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you, I can't be selfish with you."**

Elena slowly pushed the mahogany door open and entered the house, looking around the vast corridor with anticipation. The gigantic mansion didn't overwhelm her as much as it used to, but she still didn't feel there quite comfortable, especially when she was alone.

She closed the door behind her and stopped. She stared at the stairs, part of her hoping to see Stefan, part of her dreading it; but he wasn't showing up. She waited a while longer – unnecessarily, she knew – and then she slowly approached the living room.

It always struck her how nothing ever changed in that room. So many people have been in and out this house and yet everything was in an order, as if no one except Stefan and Damon could make a change in their home.

As if no one could make a change in their lives.

Elena caught a glimpse of a tall gin bottle standing on a little sixteenth-century-alike stool under the second window on the left – right where it belonged. It was empty; she subconsciously frowned – how could Damon ever let his drink be out of reach?

"Elena?"

She jumped about twenty feet in the air.

"Jesus, Damon!"

He smiled in his annoying little way and leaned over the wall. Elena turned around so that she could face him and screwed her eyes up; Damon didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry. Keep forgetting you can't hear me sneaking around."

"Stop showing off."

"So what brings you here?" he asked, approaching her by few uncertain steps. She frowned; Damon turned awkwardly and sat on the couch. Elena waited a moment and then carefully sat on the furthest armchair there was.

"Come on, Elena, I won't abuse your virtue. Or bite you, I'm not sure which one you are more afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of anything, Damon," she mumbled. "I'm just not… comfortable."

"Here or with me?" he asked locking his penetrating eyes on hers. Elena squirmed in her chair.

"Here with you, to be honest."

He nodded.

"Yeah, well. I figured."

And then no one said anything anymore. They sat there in complete silence, waiting for someone's arrival to rescue them.

"So Stefan should be here soon. He went with Rose on a little hunting trip but they should be back anytime now." Damon looked around the room and stood up. "If you don't mind, I'm not gonna keep you company."

"Why didn't you go with them?" Elena asked, standing up as well. Damon glimpsed at her suspiciously.

"Why should I?"

She didn't answer. Damon sighed.

"Didn't feel like field trips. Didn't really feel like anything."

"Sorry to barge in on you, then."

Damon made one of his many faces that meant a lot though didn't really mean anything and shrugged.

"Can't really keep you from coming, can I, right? You almost live here anyway.". He gave her a longer look. "At least you used to."

"Yeah, well. I… with Jenna and Jeremy and everything, I figured I should stay more at home these days."

"Are you and Stefan together?"

Elena flinched; she promised herself she wouldn't get scared, but she just did.

"I don't mean it like _that,_" Damon said quickly. "I mean, you know, as his brother. I know you ended things with him for the time being during the Katherine crisis, and I was just wondering if you two ever made any decisions. I'm asking without any agenda, Elena," he added quickly, smirking at her.

Elena didn't mean to answer that question, but then she did.

"I don't know," she said, and Damon, just like that, knew that she meant it. Then they both fell into silence again; Elena slowly sat back in the chair, now more confidently than before, and kept staring at the fireplace, keeping her eyes off of Damon's.

"Everything is screwed up, right?" she asked finally in a small voice.

"It's… different."

Elena smirked.

"Yeah, but different can be good. This is bad different. This is shitless scary bad different."

"Whoo-hoo, go Elena. Get it out of your system, that's right!"

She finally looked at him.

"I really don't feel like laughing," she said, fighting with a smile. Damon came up to her and sat in a chair next to her.

"Thought you didn't want to keep me company."

"You look so pathetic I can't really leave you all alone here. You're gonna think yourself to death."

This time she couldn't fight it and she smiled widely. When she looked at Damon she burst out laughing.

"This feels good," she said finally, turning to the fireplace again. "I have a goddamn vampire wanting to drain me out of blood and your stupid remarks still make me laugh."

"That's where my contribution ends, though," Damon said and observed Elena's face widen in another smile. "No, I mean it. You don't trust me anyway so how would I be of any use?"

"Come on, I trust you," she said, still smiling. She caught a glimpse of Damon's face; there was a hint of something she couldn't put her finger on – loss, was it? – that made her certain that he was only half joking.

"Not like you used to, though." This wasn't a question, it was a statement. There was no more joke in his voice; Elena suddenly felt very conscious of their closeness.

"Can't really blame you, though," he added when she remained silent. "I did kill your brother."

"I'm, – "

Silence.

"Yeah?

"I'm, – , I'm not a saint myself, you know."

Damon stared at her with pure astonishment.

"Elena, are you making _excuses_ for me?"

"No, no, no, I'm not," she said quickly. She could feel her blood rush to her cheeks. "I just… you shouldn't, you know, put yourself in that position. Endlessly. Some things people should just… let go of."

He waited a while before he answered.

"Are you letting go?"

"I let go a while ago."

Just like that, Damon was standing. Elena wasn't hiding; her eyes were locked on his, her meaningless stare driving him crazy.

"What, you get emotional now?" she said, feeling the ice getting thinner under her feet. Damon didn't answer. She didn't turn away.

"You have got to stop tormenting yourself, Damon. For everything that happened, not just that. It's time for you to let go as well."

Still now answer. Elena stood up.

"It's me who I don't trust." She took a deep breath as she heard the first crack in the ice.

"Wait. What?" Damon finally said, making as confused a face as it could get.

"You said I don't trust you. I do. I'd trust you with my life. It's _me_ who I don't trust."

"Why?" Another crack.

"Because I'm not capable of as much selflessness as you are. Because I pulled away once and I don't think I could pull away again. Because I make tons of bad choices, one after another, and because I'm willing to sacrifice much more than I can."

Damon didn't even wink. He wasn't sure if he didn't understand a word of it or if he understood everything very clearly. Elena went on.

"You're underestimating yourself. That's all I want you to know, no agenda or anything. You're better than you think. You… deserve more than you think."

The ice trembled. Damon's frowned forehead started to clear up. Elena didn't make any decisions; she started and now she couldn't stop. With everything that was going on around her, with as many bad things happening every day she finally felt right and didn't want to restrain herself anymore. What was the point?

The words came out just like that.

"And while you can't be selfish with me, I'm afraid I've always been selfish with you."

The ice broke. Elena dived into hard, freezing water which made it impossible to breath or think. It was just her looking at Damon's face that didn't tell her a thing.

And then, suddenly, the water was warm. She realized she had fistfuls of his shirt. When did that happen?

Realization and understanding hit Damon. His face didn't change; his frozen heart skipped a nonexistent beat. He felt heat, and then he felt cold. He didn't have to say a word; she saw the question in his eyes.

"Come on, Damon. I have just been kidnapped by a pair of vampires and learned that there's a five hundred years old one coming after me. I had nothing to protect me, not even my necklace. What do you think was the first thing I did after I came home that day?" She paused, suddenly realizing she was confessing a lie, and a horrible one. "I drank vervaine. And lots of it."

She slowly let go of Damon's shirt and apologetically straightened it a bit. She wasn't looking him in the eye anymore; she was too afraid of what she could see.

"You knew?" he said, his voice hoarse. "This whole time?"

"Couldn't really tell you. You would find one way or another to make me forget what you said."

"What, you _want _to know? You want to remember my failure and my wrongdoing every day so that you can have your excuse to hate me?"

"How is that a reason to hate you?" She looked up fiercely, her eyes angry. "I just told you that you are more than I could ever be, and that is why I want to remember it! Because after you broke Jeremy's neck I thought your last shred of humanity was gone, that Katherine took from you everything I learned to love, and then you did something heroic! You showed that you are more than anyone thinks you are, you showed that all along, when you just wanted to be felt for – you deserved it. And you do, Damon, you deserve it, and you deserve it from me, and I can't give you that. So while you struggle with your love and your feeling of being unworthy, I struggle with the fact that I can't give you what you deserve."

She stopped, almost panting. Neither of them spoke but this time they didn't even notice the silence; their heads were full, and their eyes locked on each other were screaming. He thought she said too much; she thought she didn't say enough. He tried to get his head around her words; she tried to find new ones to put it more clearly.

Elena couldn't remember Damon's eyes so intense ever before. He didn't say anything, he didn't blink, he didn't twitch, he didn't so much as breathe; she was blinking, twitching and agonizing. He was tormenting her on purpose, she was sure.

And then it became clear that he never intended to say anything, because he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. Without any questions, hesitation or regret he kissed her fully, and, just like she thought, this time she didn't have what it takes to pull away. They were wrong to kiss; she put both her hands in his hair, pulling him even closer. He wrapped himself around her, wanting to feel her body as his own; he felt her hair on his face, her hands, his hands, who knew anymore. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him ever so deeply; she couldn't breathe, but she didn't really need air, all she needed were his lips on hers. Klaus didn't exist, he was never even born; neither was Stefan or Katherine or anyone else. It was just the two of them; the world was spinning, the spring was blooming and everything was in it's order, everything was right.

And then she felt their lips part, his hands slip from her back, his body pull away. She had to breathe again; it hurt her lungs. Klaus was real, and so was Katherine, and so was Stefan – oh God, Stefan; the world was real once again.

"I'm sorry," he said; she felt like killing him for apologizing. "But that was the selfish part that you unleashed yourself."

Elena looked wrecked to him. With her lips puffed and her eyes full, he could not feel more sorry for her. She was already doomed and what he did only gave her more reasons to torment herself. Yet there was no regret in her eyes; she looked abandoned. He hated that.

"This is not why you love me," he said; he was now sure she did. Wasn't he always? "I don't want to put you in that position – of a weak cheater. You said you couldn't give me what you wanted to. I took advantage of that."

She shook her head fiercely. It was he who was better than this, not her, couldn't he see that?

She didn't say anything. He was right; so was she. What was there left to say or do?

She reached for her school bag and started for the door; there was no point in pretending to be waiting for Stefan anymore. She prayed for Damon to stay right were he was; her whole body felt like begging him to go after her.

She left. He stayed. Of course he would.


End file.
